


The Feast

by Landi_Elliot



Series: October Tales [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Birthday Party, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Fanfiction, Fluff, Food, Friendship, Game of Thrones References, Gen, Humor, Masturbation, Metafanfiction, Metafiction, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, References to J.R.R.Tolkien, Sexuality, Teasing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 15:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Landi_Elliot/pseuds/Landi_Elliot
Summary: Three friends have just saved the world (in a Good Omens themed escape room) and they are celebrating (it is also the birthday for the two of them – the Quest was their birthday treat). As they eat and drink, they talk about the quest, the appeal of Good Omens (a topic that takes them to the discussion of human sexuality) and, finally, fanfiction. In the end, being quite drunk and lying on the floor, they challenge one another to try writing fanfiction. Whether they will really do it or not, is another question.(Spoiler: they will).
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: October Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544227
Kudos: 6





	The Feast

Iris’s place is their favourite drinking spot: she rents a roof apartment in a private house in the suburbs, which feels like a different world. The neighbours downstairs are quiet and virtually invisible; the landlord is obsessed with gardening, which accounts for the paradise-like feel of the place in most seasons, and Iris is a goddess of spontaneous _hugge_. This particular October day is a bit chilly, so they get out of the car, walk through the garden that bursts with autumnal colours and get inside for warmth. The residual smell of baking hits their nostrils: the angel cake has definitely conquered the place. Iris can’t wait for them to meet it.

“Ta-da!” she exclaims as she gets the cake out of the kitchen cabinet, resplendent in its white-and-yellow-and-pink glory. “Audrey, Joseph, this is Angel Cake. Angel Cake, these two alcoholics are Audrey and Joseph.”

“Enchanté, Cake! Come on, Iris, we’ll drink it all, you’ll see,” Joseph laughs and gets the bottles out of his rucksack.

“The cake is _gorgeous_, hun! I mean…wow! How did you even… no! Don’t tell me, I won’t understand a word you’re saying. And Joseph’s right: one needs a lot of wine to wash this down. Here comes the Horny Cherub!”

“For the last time, Audrey, he is NOT horny,” says Joseph. “It’s just a safety pin! Look!”

On the way back from the escape room they popped into a wine store and scared the staff there by several violent fits of laughter while they were choosing the wine. There was this Chilean rosé called _Montes Cherub_ and there was indeed a cherub on the label, a fat and a silly-looking one. He was pinkishly naked apart of a flappy loincloth around his hips, fastened with a huge safety pin, which Audrey mistook for a cock in full erection. No amount of persuasion convinced her that it was not what she thought it was. Naturally, they ended up buying three bottles of the Horny Cherub.

Audrey unpacks the food they bought and hands it over to Iris who arranges it all on large ornate plates. Whatever she touches turns from _just food_ into a _feast. _Audrey thinks she will never stop wondering at this superpower of Iris’s. Joseph opens the first bottle and pours out the wine. Then he starts doing something on his phone.

“Jesus… The cross, the tree and the sword are indeed on the emblem of the Spanish Inquisition! I’ve just googled. We walked right into it!”

“You’re still obsessing about the Inquisition, Jos?” Iris says with a smile, arranging gravlax pieces on a yellow plate.

“Too right I am! It was a blow! I never realised I would be so weak under torture!”

“Well, they were very good at it,” Audrey says with a giggle, “But we still managed to walk away from them and save the world. And I would like very much to start drinking to this world! If you’re done playing with the food, hun!”

“I am all yours,” Iris says, finally finishing the preparations and raising her glass. “To the world?”

“To the world!”

“To the world and its saviours!”

They clink their glasses and drink, and then Audrey decides to make a selfie of them all together with the Horny Cherub.

“Let post our Angel and Demon Finding Army in its splendour…”

“…before it turns into a drunken stupor?”

“Precisely!”

*

They eat and drink and discuss every second of their quest over and over again, laughing and teasing each other. Audrey threatens Joseph with playing the _Sound of Music_ numbers if he doesn’t repeat his fandango dance for them.

“I mean… it was fabulous… almost as good as the gavotte…”

“Audrey…” he says with an inflection to his voice.

“They would certainly appreciate it at a discreet gentlemen’s club in Portland Place, that fandango.”

“_Audrey_…”

“We should rename you Captain Scaramouch, really,” she continues relentlessly.

“_Right_. How about renaming _you_ Sergeant Possess-Me-O-Foul-Fiend?” Joseph chooses offence-is-best-defence tactic. “I mean, you practically melted when you saw those shades and we had to scrape you off the floor so that there was something for the fiend to possess…”

Iris knows they both enjoy this mutual taunting and yet she feels uneasy when they do it. What if one of them oversteps the boundary and _does_ offend the other? She gives a little laugh when the other two joke, but she is unconsciously searching for a way she can put an end to it. Well, she has her angelic weapon and she is not afraid to use it.

“I think it’s cake and candle time!” she announces, getting up.

Iris has never liked the idea of candles on birthday cakes – what with paraffin wax (who knows what chemicals they are putting into them these days!) flying everywhere and unsightly holes left in the cake. She usually employs small tablet candles instead, arranging them around the cake, and today the pattern is obvious: the Circle. Thirty-two candles are just enough to make a circle with a square inside: Iris enjoys this geometrical ambience she is creating. She gets Joseph and Audrey to help her with the lighting and then she turns off the lights. As she puts on _Don’t Dream It’s Over_ – a song both she and Audrey love and associate with _Good Omens_, she realises there is one more source of light. It’s moonlight, coming in though her Eastern window.

“Oh my god, is this the full moon tonight?” Audrey exhales as they all rush to the window and look at the shining orb.

“Looks like it’s still waxing,” Joseph says and starts googling. “Yep, almost full – it’s Hunter’s Moon tomorrow.”

And they are all silent again, listening to the song and taking in the moment. Iris feels happy and translucent. A perfect state for the angel cake communion.

“I’ll cut the cake and we’ll eat it looking at the moon,” she whispers.

“What do you mean, _eat it_?” Joseph says as if awe-struck. “I thought it was made to be _worshipped_ in creative ways, not _eaten_.”

“Hear, hear,” Audrey concurs. “_You_ can’t eat it, anyway, hun. That would be practically cannibalism.”

And they keep on teasing her like that, while Josephs opens the second bottle of the Horny Cherub and she slices the cake.

*

The moment of translucency is gone, and they attack the cake. Soon, it’s half gone and there’s less and less wine in the second bottle. The conversation now revolves around the irresistible appeal of _Good Omens._ Audrey is trying to explain her theory to the other two. The figure her wineglass is drawing in the air is like the sign of infinity, Joseph thinks. Iris is mesmerised by the reflections of the candlelight that sometimes glisten on Audrey’s fingernails.

“Point is…” Audrey is saying. “Point is…”

“Dolphins?” Iris and Joseph suggest simultaneously.

“Nah…” Audrey says through a fit of giggles, “Not even a kraken. Point is… the _Omens_ satisfy two primal human desires!”

“You mean food and sex?” Iris asks.

“Nah… will you give me a chance to speak, you two? I’ll come to food and sex later, they are also important.”

“Not necessarily,” Joseph interjects. “Not sex, anyway.”

“We remember you’re _asexual_, Jos,” Audrey says. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be _talking_ right now. We’d be having a lovely threesome. Anyway…”

“_I_ wouldn’t be having a threesome,” Iris mutters.

“Arrgh!” Audrey growls, “I am surrounded by muggles… I mean asexuals and monogamists. That is what I am used to, though. What is harder getting used to is your constant interrupting me. When I am about to open your eyes to the mystery of _Good Omens_ appeal.”

“Sorry, hun,” says Iris and she means it. “Go on, open our eyes!”

“So… okay… two primal human desires that fantasy can satisfy, as described by Tolkien – and he knew what he was talking about, mind you! First, penetrate the depths of time and space. Second, meet other creatures – like us but not like us. He meant Elves, of course. But it’s same thing, really.”

“So, you’re saying Aziraphale and Crowley are Elves?” Joseph asks.

“No, no! Ah, for someone’s sake… Listen. _Good Omens_ is a story of the world from the beginning to the end…”

“Not _quite_ the end…”

“All right, whatever, not quite the end, but still… It was close. And there are these two… beings… who have seen it _all_. They have access to knowledge and power that we lack to understand what the whole fucking thing is about.”

“Except that they don’t. Understand, I mean,” Iris argues.

“Exactly!” Audrey is getting excited. “That is my point. They are not like us, but in a way – they are. They have to be like us so that we can relate to them and like them. They have to have flaws and limitations. This is where food and sex come in.”

“Hold on, hold on…” Joseph says, “I remember food in the show, I give you that. But I somehow have missed the sex. Well, apart from Anathema and Newt, but they don’t count.”

“If you’ve missed the sex, my friend, then you should watch it again,” Audrey says triumphantly. “It’s all about sex. Besides, it’s the greatest love story ever told.”

“Hey, you don’t mean queerbating and stuff?” Joseph asks, really trying to get her point now. Iris is glad he is not mocking her anymore. “I mean, like they are gays, but it’s not shown explicitly?”

“No, I do not mean queerbating – gender has nothing to do with it. That’s the beauty of the story. It is timeless and genderless. The fact they are played by male actors is irrelevant.”

“What is relevant then?”

“The dynamic! Unresolved sexual tension – that’s what! This kind of suspense gets everyone hooked in any kind of love story, but here we have the tension that has been unresolved for _thousands_ of years,” Audrey takes a sip of wine before she says the next bit. Iris has guessed what is coming, so she says it together with her. “SIX THOUSAND YEARS OF PINING!”

“So… not a buddy story then?” Joseph says slowly.

“God, Jos, what world are you living in? Those looks from the very first episode, those sighs, those rescues, those little demonic miracles and big angelic eyes… In which universe is this about friendship?”

“In a world where some friends can get drunk without unresolved sexual tension,” Joseph replies. “_My _world.”

“I like Joseph’s world, actually,” Iris says. She really doesn’t want an argument. And she _does_ like it. Audrey’s, too. She is in both of them right now.

“I guess you have a right to it,” Audrey relents at last.

“You are so kind!”

Iris raises her glass.

“To the worlds, then?”

“To the worlds!”

“To the worlds!”

And they drink. Iris decides to slice up the rest of the cake while she can still be trusted with a knife.

*

Somewhere in the middle of the third bottle they start talking fanfiction. Joseph, who never reads it, is literally on the floor now, hysterical. Audrey is finishing retelling the plot of one of her favourites.

“…and yeah… after that they basically fuck till kingdom come.”

“…with various sets of genitals?”

“Yep, whatever they fancy at each particular moment. Penises and vaginas come and go just like that,” she clicks her fingers, “Not much of a miracle for a demon or an angel.”

“People are pro… projecting their own fantasies,” Iris explains and immediately feels silly. It is _obvious_ they do. That is the whole point of fanfiction.

“Too right they are!” Audrey exclaims. “Angels and demons are perfect vessels for projecting and channelling any desire you might harbour. Combine it with thousands of years of fantasising – and bingo, you have your ideal erotic bun for tea.”

“So, you guys are reading all this stuff, right?” Josephs groans from the floor. “Like, regularly?”

“Well…” Iris is unwilling to admit it, but Audrey cuts in with her unstoppable honesty.

“We do, yes. Why shouldn’t we?”

“So, it’s like masturbating with texts, innit?”

“Yes, Jos, texts are perfect masturbating tools. In case you didn’t know!”

“Metaphors are particularly good,” Iris confirms.

Joseph raises his glass unsteadily while still lying on the floor.

“Oh, this is worse than the Spanish Inquisition. Let’s drink to masturbating with metaphors!”

“To masturbating with metaphors!” Iris and Audrey happily agree and clink the glasses.

“Do you write like… your own fics as well?” Joseph bubbles from the floor, where he is having trouble getting all the drink into his mouth. “I mean… it must be even more… more…”

“Metaphorical?”

“Masturbatory?”

“Both… but I meant… what were those basic human desires again? Not sex and food? The other two? There was something about penetrating Elves…”

“Jos!” Audrey roars and slips down on the floor next to him. Iris’s carpet is thick and fluffy. “Penetrating _time_ and _space_! And meeting some silly buggers, immortal, wise and… and fucking gorgeous in their sunglasses and bowties.”

“Jesus… I never knew Tolkien had these fantasies as well…”

When Iris stops laughing, she finds herself down on the floor as well. As soon as she can speak again, she says:

“No, Jos, we don’t write fics. Because… Audrey… why don’t we write fics?”

“That is… a very good question. I bet we can do it. I bet we can fucking channel whatever it is we need channelling into the _Omens_.”

“So… let’s do it! What would you write about?”

“Oh I don’t know… all these possibilities…” Audrey muses, “I guess I would write about polyamory.”

Audrey has been trying polyamory for a while now. It is liberating and fun and so _her_… in theory. In practice, it’s hard work and constant search for solutions and consensuses. It’s frankly tiring. She understands now why people have been rooting for monogamy for centuries. It’s just avoiding things getting too complex and entangled.

“It’s kinda hard to combine polyamory with Crowley and Aziraphale,” Iris remarks.

“Why on earth is that?” Audrey sounds indignant.

“Well, they are so into each other, aren’t they? Being a monogamous muggle myself, I just can’t imagine them fancying someone else.”

“I can bloody well imagine them fancying a whole load of people!” Audrey cries. She can definitely see Iris’s point, but she gets very defensive when people are having a go at polyamory. “Besides, it’s been done. There’s this fic where Crowley has a threesome with Anathema and Newt.”

“And what about Aziraphale?” Joseph asks.

“What about him? Aziraphale gives them his blessing, obviously,” Audrey replies. Then she adds musingly. “But personally, I don’t see Crowley as the polyamorous one. It should be Aziraphale.”

“Aziraphale? Why?”

“He is an _angel_, that’s why. He is polyamorous by nature – all-loving by de-fi-ni-tion.”

“Omni-amorous then?” Joseph suggests. “Gosh, that sounds almost like omnivorous. Sex and food, food and sex…”

“Pansexual rather. Angels just love everything around them, don’t they? You add that sensuality Aziraphale so unashamedly exhibits – and there you have it! Polyamory!”

“What can I say,” Iris whispers. “You should write a story about polyamorous Aziraphale, hun.”

“Will do!” Audrey says and she means it. There was something in the escape room. Something small, irrelevant, story-shaped. What was it?

“What about you, Iris?” Joseph asks. “What is your unresolved sexual issue? You’ve had a fair share of boyfriends, in a monogamous way, obviously, but you still haven’t found a soulmate. Do you have an issue?”

Iris’s mind is spinning. Does she have an issue? With love, with sex, with relationships? She must have. If only she could put a finger on it… She thinks of Frank, her latest ex. She remembers one of the rows they had during the last season of _Game of Thrones_. She felt so buoyant that month, so full of sexual vibes and fantasies, but he was always grumpy, dissatisfied with the show and wanting to rant on about it rather than having sex with her…

“Timing,” she says at last. “And rhythm.”

“Come again?” Joseph asks, confused.

“I mean… It’s never two people wanting the same thing at the same time, is it? And don’t get me started on sexual rhythms. I don’t know about you and your lovers, Audrey, but with me it is always either I want it when they don’t or vice versa.”

“Oh… you can totally do this with Crowley and Aziraphale, hun. That’d be great.”

“Like… one of them wants to have sex more often and comes to a sex therapist to talk about it?” Joseph suggests. “Like, hello, doc, I’d like to have sex more often that once in a millennium, please.”

They all laugh.

“I like it,” Iris says at last, thinking of Frank and his “not today”. It did sound to her like “not this millennium” at that moment. “I really do.”

There is a long silence after that.

“This fanfiction thing. Does it _have_ to have genitals and stuff in it?” Josephs says suddenly. “Is that a requirement and you get banned if you don’t include smut?”

“What?! Are _you _going to write one too??”

“Why not? I want to channel, too. Judging by what you two said, I figured you will be needing a healthy dose of asexuality.”

“There are a lot of asexual fics about the Omens,” Iris says. “So you can totally do it.”

“Yeah,” Audrey smirks, “Why don’t you try something original and write some asexual smut for us, Jos?”

“Asexual smut, eh? How does that work then?” Joseph giggles.

“Oh, with Aziraphale and Crowley there are _always_ limitless possibilities,” Iris says.

“Sure,” Audrey agrees. “Like, for instance, imagine there’s a Roman orgy unfolding in the background, genitals galore, while our two asexual heroes are celebrating their ineffable friendship by playing a chaste game of chess. Or that board game, whatever it was.”

“Oh,” Joseph sits up abruptly. “I have an idea for asexual smut! Even better than the Roman orgy!”

“Really?” Iris and Audrey say in unison. “What is it?”

“Uh-huh,” he grins. “You’ll read it when I write it. And I dare you to write your own! Before October is over!”

Iris groans – she does hate deadlines. But she never finishes anything without them. She exchanges looks with Audrey.

There are fireflies of moonlight and candlelight all around them. Audrey suddenly remembers what has been troubling her. It was that out-of-character bonsai tree among Crowley’s plants. She feels a seed of a story in her brain. It starts growing.

Iris is looking at her friend and her nails and the reflection of candles in her big eyes that are rapidly changing expression. Her fingertips suddenly start itching. It is a story coming through. She can feel its outline. It is penetrating the depths of time and space and she feels like penetrating them right now, on this carpet.

“I wish we could sober up right now and start writing immediately,” Iris whispers.

“Angel and Demon Writing Army will start its masturbating… I mean its desire-channelling operation tomorrow, Sunday the 13th. And now let’s finish off this Horny Cherub.”

And they drink up. The moon slides past Iris’s window and moves on. It has a big day tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> "Montes Cherub" is an actual Chilean rosé, which has the cherub on it, as described above. And the author did the embarrassing mistake of seeing what wasn't there. Isn't it lovely that you can create fictional characters and channel your own silliness into them?


End file.
